Falling Up
by RoyalGirl22
Summary: Catherina is frustrated. Her mom is absolutely blind to everything she mentions. Even if she gets angry, it's a calm reply. Cath is yearning for a little more guidance, but how can that happen when her life spins out of control?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer:** I don't own Percy Jackson.**

I picked up the old book. At least I thought it was a book. What it was doing in my mother's stuff, I didn't have a clue. But, she told me to unpack the boxes, so there I stood, unpacking the boxes. The book was old and covered with a layer of dust and dirt. It had a leather cover, but the spine was a thin web of something that looked a little like it could be the insides of something. I dusted off the cover and looked for the title. After quite a bit of squinting, I could make out the title, 'The Borak Fragments.' It was such an unusual title, for such an unusual book.

"Catherina, are you okay?" I heard my mom shout out from downstairs.

"You might want to see this!" I called back.

"What?" I heard footsteps on the staircase to the attic. I looked over and saw my mother's head peek up from the staircase. I saw her beautiful blonde hair that I'll never have, as mine's jet black.

"This book."

"What about it? Its my old recipe book."

"What? No. Don't you see? It says, 'The Borak Fragments' right here on the title," but even as I said it, I knew my efforts were hopeless, she couldn't see it.

"Are you alright?" my mother asked, feeling my forehead, "You feel warm, why don't you lie down."

"I'm fine," I snapped.

"No, you should lie down," I really should be glad that my mom doesn't get mad at me for snapping, but I was getting frustrated.

"Lie down where? We just moved completely across the country, from Portland, OR, to some tiny town in the state of New York, away from all my friends. A town in which I am the youngest person. I mean, just on East Wigmore Street, we're the only ones living here who aren't over the age of fifty. I don't even have a bed set up to lie down in. And you ask my to lie down. I don't even feel sick!" I yelled at my mom.

"Cath, you need to calm down. Your matress is in you room. Why don't you go and lie down and I'll make you a cup of tea." Oh. My. God. Doesn't she get the point? Most parents, if their kid yelled at them like that, the kid would he in trouble. It's like I've got the opposite problem.

"Fine," I huffed, "but can I take your old recipe book?"

"Yes you may. I don't even use it anymore. Maybe you could pick out some meals or something."

"Yeah. Or something," I replied gloomily as I walked to my empty room.

**A/N: Okay. Thats all, the next update will probably be longer, please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson**

This was a mess. I sat in my empty room, okay, maybe it wasn't empty, it had a mattress lying on the floor (the bed frame was still in the truck) and a couple of boxes. So, I sat in the kind-of-not-really empty room. I opened up my computer and typed in the search bar, 'The Borak Fragments.' I clicked on the first link and as it was loading, opened the book. I was engulfed in watercolor paintings, each painted with such amazing detail, and they all had twisted, black ink, swirling throughout every page, letting off an eerie highlight to every painting. The black ink on every other page had a couple of lines on it, but I could hardly read it, being dyslexic. It looked like it could be Tengwar or Sindarin (Lord of the Rings), but I knew it wasn't.

I heard a knock on the door, it was my mom, and she had some Irish Breakfast tea and a plate of cookies. I should mention that my mom is amazing at baking, her meals are okay, but she is an amazing dessert chef. She set down the plate and cup next to me and left. It was hard to stay mad at my mom for very long though.

I looked back at the computer. The page had some tiny text, so I had to zoom in a lot so I could read it without all the letters jumbling. It said the book was a part of an old legend about an old set of books called 'Borak' which was an old compilation of artwork by someone named Borak. All of the art was about greek mythology. Apparently, everyone thought that Borak was going mad because he kept babbling about the greek deities and how they were going to come down and damn the entire world to unknown terrors.

Okay, so I had an old legendary sketchbook by some mad guy that my mom saw as a recipe book. I sipped some tea and finished off the rest of the cookies. I took the plate down.

"Cath, you are starting school tomorrow, you should get some sleep. There are some sheets in the hallway for your bed," I heard my mom call from some room.

"Okay mom!"

I left to get the sheets. By the time I had made my bed I was really tired. We had been up since midnight flying from place to place to get here, and mind you, I hated flying. Airplanes made me claustrophobic, they smell bad, I am afraid of heights and I get sick every time I fly. They aren't really my thing. Oh shit, I remembered I have school tomorrow. New school. New friends. New life. Plus, I'm not exactly you perfect student. I'm ADHD so I move around and get distracted a lot, so I'm taking a short drive to a charter school or something of the sorts. Not the best day ahead of me.


End file.
